


Hometown

by great_turkey_calamity



Series: Hey Look Trans Rep [3]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Childhood Memories, Childhood home visits, Fluff, Important Conversation, M/M, Trans Alex Claremont-Diaz, henry is a good listener
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25239238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_turkey_calamity/pseuds/great_turkey_calamity
Summary: Alex takes Henry to his childhood home in Austin, and gives some insight as to what his life was like growing up.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Hey Look Trans Rep [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747501
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68





	Hometown

**Author's Note:**

> Ask and y’all shall receive: more trans alex content!!

Austin, Texas.

According to the rest of Texas, and probably the whole of the United States, Austin is known for keeping it weird. Stiflingly hot summers, outdoorsy liberal hipsters, waiting in lines for hours just to get the _good_ barbecue, shutting down the whole city in the winter when there’s an inch of snow on the ground— that’s what most people think of.

Alexander, on the other hand, thinks of home. He thinks of running through the sprinklers in the back yard with June when it would get simply too hot to stay inside, of baking cookies at three in the morning— and subsequently burning them when he got distracted, and of sitting at the kitchen table, filtering through his emails, and letting out a shriek of shock and joy when he read the opening line from a message from Georgetown; _Congratulations, Mr. Claremont-Diaz_ , it had read. 

He’s known from the moment that he made it official with Henry, that he’s wanted to bring him here, to his childhood home. This house, this place, is _too important_ to neglect showing him. They finally found some time to steal away from their respective messes; Henry’s taking some time off from the shelter, and bringing his laptop with him to do some editing, his latest project being a nonfictional guide on LGBT trailblazers and events throughout history. Meanwhile, he’s been graciously allowed some time off from his summer internship— two whole weeks— just to make this trip.

The key that once shared a place with the signet ring, on the golden chain around his neck, was transferred to his right hand pocket when they began the drive to the house. He fidgets with it as he starts up the front steps with Henry, their intertwined hands swinging gently. For one rush, one zip of a moment, he feels nervous. Thinks that, perhaps, this is just too personal. Then, he remembers that his lover was the one who doubled down on the suggestion, and it helps ease his nerves, just a bit.

“You ready?” He asks eventually, fishing the key out of his pocket and sticking it in the lock.  
  


“I am,” Henry replies, grasping his unoccupied hand in a firm hold, one that almost feels reassuring. “Lead the way.” He prompts when the door’s finally opened.

Alex can see the excitement glimmer in his eyes, and he smiles, intakes a quick breath through his nose, and takes the first step inside, turning on the living room light. It’s exactly as he once remembered it— all cream colored walls and soft edges and muted colors.

His original safe space. 

The front door clicks shut, and it shakes him from his reverie. He blinks once, then twice, trying to come up with something to say.

“I, uhm, sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve actually step foot in here.” He explains to Henry, fingers tracing over the soft grey fabric of their couch as he resists the urge to reach out and touch the blue and white afghan draped over the back of it.   
  


“Don’t be sorry,” Henry responds, his hand tenderly placed over the small of Alexander’s back. “You haven’t got any reason to be. I’m sure it’s a lot, to come back home after going through so many changes. I’d be a bit stuck in my head myself, I’m sure.” He continues, eyes scanning the living room, taking it in for the very first time. “I’m guessing that Ellen likes the color blue?” He questions with a chuckle, looking around at the decor, most of which happening to be some shade of blue.

“Oh yeah, dude. I’ve got what she likes down to an exact science— if it’s blue, or it’s got a cow on it, she’ll go feral for it.”

“Cows?” Henry asks, a silly smile on his face, eyebrows raised.

“She absolutely loves cows. You know how every mom goes insane for that one animal? She’s _obsessed_ with cows.” He tells him. He walks over to a shelf, covered in trinkets, and reaches behind them, pulling out several cow figurines. “She hid all of them before we went out to DC; she acts like it’s some dirty secret.” He giggles, holding them out for his partner to see.

“But why _cows_?” Is the question Henry proposes, trying to stifle his laughter.

“Sweetheart, what state are we in?”

“Texas—“

“That’s your answer. Cows are just— they’re just a _Texas_ thing. Our football teams are literally called the Longhorns and the Cowboys. It all shakes up to state pride, honestly.” He explains, putting the trinkets back.

“I’ve been told by Liam that the Cowboys are terrible.”   
  


“Well, the Cowboys are America’s team, and by saying that, Liam has officially forfeited his American citizenship.” Alex jokes, looking over the room once more.

“What about the Steelers?” Henry questions, the look on his face innocent as can be.

Alexander’s mouth falls open in pure terror.

“What _about_ them?” He echoes, an incredulous look on his face.

“Aren't they better than the—“

“Henry, I love you, but if you keep talking, I will break up with you.” He warns. “And no more talking to Liam about sports, ain’t a lick of sense in that damn head of his.” He grumbles, knowing that he’ll be sending a passionate text his friend’s way later on. 

“We’ve been in this state for only a few hours, yet you’re already reverting back to your old ways.” Henry comments, smirking. “How charming.”

“You’re like, five seconds away from being single, buddy.”

“Did you just ‘ _buddy_ ’ me?”

“Yeah, and I called you dude earlier.” Alexander reminds him, laughing softly and squirming when his neck is peppered with gentle pecks.

Henry keeps up the attack for a moment or two before ceasing, pressing a final kiss to his cheek. “Show me the rest of the house, please?” He questions, an arm wrapped around Alex’s midsection.

He reaches up onto his toes, and pecks the corner of Henry’s mouth.

“Of course.” He murmurs softly, leading him deeper into his childhood home.

After giving his partner the grand tour, which consisted of visiting each room and telling the best stories surrounding each one, he has decided that he will be foraging for little pieces of the past. He’s looking through boxes in his bedroom closet when he finds the album of all of his photos pre-testosterone. His mother had been insistent on their photos being kept separately— something about celebrating their accomplishments separately.  
  


Nonetheless, he clutches the heavy leather book in both of his hands, and rushes back out into the living room, where Henry’s been waiting patiently for his return.

“Ready to see some really humiliating shit?” He asks, a bit of nervous laughter escaping from between his lips as he sets the book down on the coffee table, plopping down next to him.  
  


“I doubt it will be as bad as your mind’s made it out to be, love.” Henry reassures him, kissing the side of his face. “Also, you really don’t have to share these photos with me, especially if doing so makes you feel uncomfortable.” He reminds him softly.

“Baby, I thought that you of all people would know that _everything_ makes me uncomfortable.” Alex responds, going for a joke at first, but switching to sincerity when he sees that’s not going too well. “I want to share this part of myself with you— you’re one of very, _very_ few people who I trust to see me pre, well, _everything_.” He explains, playing with the corner of the book. 

“I’m glad that you feel safe enough with me to share such private information.” Henry replies, rubbing the nape of his neck, a slow, soothing motion. “Whenever you’re ready, love.”  


Alexander nods, sighs, and opens up the photo album to its first page.  
  


The few first pages are just baby photos, Alex dressed in pinks and peaches and yellows in various locations, all with the same precious smile on his face. He feels his face burn with embarrassment as his lover coos over the pictures, used to just skipping straight to his teen years when he flips through.

“First day of kindergarten,” He points out, tapping a picture of himself in a standard public school uniform, one of his front teeth missing. “I remember being so mad that June couldn’t come with me to my classroom, nearly threw a fit.” He recalls; he had been quite the brat back then, from what he remembers.

“I’ve never seen a child so excited for school before.” Henry acknowledges with a smile. “Must’ve been taken before you realized.”

“Oh for sure— I don’t remember a lot from back then, but Mom and Dad always say I gave my old teachers hell, so I can’t imagine it looked too pretty.” He chuckles, flipping another few pages. “National Elementary Honors Society; I thought I was hot shit.” He says, gesturing to a photo of himself, holding a certificate and giving a thumbs up to whoever was holding the camera at the time, probably his father. “I was in third grade, so I was probably around nine?” He states, but it comes out as a question of some kind.

“So, you’ve always been naturally studious?” Henry questions, eyeing the picture. He notices that the name on the certificate has been scratched out by a permanent marker. He doesn’t bring it up.  
  


“Oh, _definitely_ not.” Alex replies, letting out a breathy laugh at the idea. “I loved school, but I had a lot of trouble with being interested in my work, severe problems paying attention in general.” He explains to him. “It was really bad when I was young, and I still struggle with it now, but it’s a lot more manageable.”

Henry hums, but doesn’t make a comment, eyeing pictures briefly as pages are turned. 

“What’s this one?” He finds himself asking. “Some sort of party?” He asks, noticing a much younger June and Alexander standing side by side in matching formal wear, the former’s being much more elaborate and dramatic.

“That was Bug’s _quinceañera_ — about four months before I came out.” Alex explains. “That dress was around fifteen-hundred dollars. Only worn once.” He tells him, gesturing to the lavender mess of ruffles and rhinestones that his sister was wearing. 

“Why spend so much on something to only wear it once?”

“Quinces are the day that you become a woman. Most families who celebrate them save more for their daughter’s fifteenth birthday than their wedding. Have no idea why, though.”

It’s quiet for a moment or two, before Henry is sure of his next question.

“How old were you then?”

“I was thirteen, at the time. Came out a couple of weeks before I turned fourteen.”

“Did—“ Henry starts, then stops. He’s had to learn over the span of their relationship that Alex is more open than most, that he’s alright with answering sensitive questions. “How did they take it?”  
  


“Honestly? I don’t remember. Probably not as well as I’d like to think.” He laughs softly, shaking his head. “Times were different back then. My father was _very_ religious. What matters is that they came around. They see me as their son, and that’s what I care about.” He says, hovering on the page for a moment or two more before flipping it.

“I’m proud of you.” Henry tells him, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m absolutely astounded by your bravery.”

“I think it was less bravery and more desperation to escape from my pain,” Alex breathes, cracking his knuckles. “But I appreciate it nonetheless.” He continues, scanning the page before turning it. “Ooh, sophomore homecoming, before the big chop and the braces. Made court for underclassmen, and my date was super cool— she’s getting her master’s in social work, and her wife’s in the marines.” He notes, gesturing to himself in a suit, half of his hair in a bun atop his head, the other half falling to his shoulders in waves, a young girl in a red dress on his side.

“Long hair was definitely a look for you— you seem really confident here.” Henry replies, the smile on his face in this photo seeming genuine, whilst he could feel his pain in the one from June’s birthday.

“I’ve thought once or twice about growing it back out, but I’d probably just get impatient and cut it all off again.” Alex says in complete honesty, flipping the page, gasping and cringing. “Oh, yikes. Yikes, yikes, _yikes_. Buzz cut and braces— who let me go out like that?” He scoffs, looking at a picture of himself at a debate competition with disgust.

Henry snorts. “Oh come now, it’s not that bad. Especially because you were already passing so well. You looked like any other teenager who’s made a regrettable fashion choice, so literally any other boy your age.”

“I looked like a Latino version of Sid from _Toy Story_.” He replies, flipping the pages a few more times. “Here’s me at senior prom, of which I was the king.” He points out, and there he is, the hair grown out and the braces off, plastic crown falling off his head as he’s lifted onto Liam’s shoulders, head tipped back, mouth wide open in laughter.

“Looks like quite the wild night.” Henry replies, marveling at the joyous and boisterous nature of the photo.

“It certainly was; that night was the first time I tried alcohol, I believe.” He informs, trying to keep himself from laughing at his lover’s shock. “Lacrosse, youth group, debate, model UN— here we are, graduation.” He announces. “I was the valedictorian, so I got to give a nice little speech. Also graduated an AP Scholar with Distinction, that just means I cried a lot and had practically had no friends for my last two years of high school.” He jokes. “APUSH and AP Spanish Language were fun, AP Psych was alright, AP Stats— God, thinking about statistics makes me want to _cry_.“ He recalls, rubbing his temples.

“It certainly _sounds_ painful. I’ve never been one for maths, myself.” Henry tells him, face scrunching up at the thought of taking an accelerated math class meant for university students.

“It was quite literally the worst experience that I have ever had, but it’s okay. I ended up getting into Georgetown for my troubles, which made me feel a little less spiteful.” He says with a chuckle, glancing over the last few photos before shutting the album with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking about something lately, babe.” He admits.

“I didn’t realize that you were capable of doing something so complex.”

“ _Henry!_ ” Alex whines, wanting to be taken seriously in this moment, lips pinching together as his lover laughs. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry— what’s been troubling you, lovely?”

“I’ve been really thinking, debating my pros and cons,” He starts, folding his hands in his lap to keep from fidgeting. “And I think I want to publicly come out regarding the status of, well, my transition.” He tells him, eyeing him in an attempt to gauge his reaction.

Now it’s his turn to keep from laughing as Henry sputters, trying to form a thousand different words at once.

“Alex— baby—“ He starts, squeezing his hands and looking him in the eyes. “Are you _sure_ this is something that you want to do?”

“I’m fairly sure. Can I tell you why I’m choosing to do this?”

“I mean, I’d certainly appreciate it if a few reasons were disclosed.”  
  


“Right.” Alex clears his throat, then begins. “When everything before the election happened, I felt like a huge part of myself was stolen and put on display. I felt, just, I was horrified and ashamed.” He admits, continuing. ”Then, I heard stories from all the people who looked up to us. People found the strength to come out— to _keep going_ and _believe_ that it gets better— because of us. I want to do the same for all of the kids that grew up like I did, because fuck Hen, they _need_ it. They need representation, as much of it as they can get. I want to help people realize they’re not bad, or sick, or alone, y’know?” He finishes, looking to him for support.

Henry’s quiet for a moment, processing the information, before he pipes up.

“I think,” He begins, squeezing Alexander’s hands again. “That you are the most _caring_ individual that I have ever met, and that this is so brilliant and courageous.” He declares, kissing his cheek. “We’ll have to speak to Zahra about a statement, perhaps even Shaan, but we can definitely get something done soon.” He assures him.

Alex smiles, pulling him in for a hug, so tight and fierce that it makes his ribs ache. 

“Thank you.” He whispers, so quiet it’s barely audible.

“For what, darling?”

“For loving me.”

  
He remains on the porch for a few moments after Henry heads to the car, asking for a few moments of his own. 

He takes in all of the memories, good and bad, with an inwards breath— then releases them with an exhale.

He locks the door, places the key in his pocket, then goes bounding down the porch steps.

Austin, Texas.

Weird to outsiders, home to Alexander Claremont-Diaz.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @bi-disaster-fsotus


End file.
